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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25045759">A Vulcan Walks Into a Bar</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/celticmuse/pseuds/celticmuse'>celticmuse</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Star Trek: The Original Series</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Gen, Humor</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-07-03</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-07-03</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 10:13:46</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Not Rated</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Major Character Death</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,456</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25045759</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/celticmuse/pseuds/celticmuse</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Total fluff humor piece that was a gift for my friend Murphycat incorporating a sort of role playing thing we did in the Spock Chapel Facebook group.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Christine Chapel/Spock</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>8</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>A Vulcan Walks Into a Bar</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/murphycat/gifts">murphycat</a>.</li>



    </ul></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“I cannot believe my ears,” Spock said as he watched the doctor saunter from the almost empty rec room.</p><p>

 

“And I can’t believe that you’d actually set me up with a line like that,” Mairead replied.</p><p>

 

Spock turned his gaze back to her, flying the ubiquitous raised eyebrow of umbrage  at half-mast. “I was referring to Dr. Hughes-Jones admonishment.” </p><p>

 

“Admonishment?” she responded absently as she threaded the fine wire through the tuning peg. </p><p>

 

“Mairead, you really need to listen when someone is talking to you.” </p><p>

 

“Kind of busy here. You were the one who volunteered us to perform at the conference.” </p><p>

 

 He sighed sharply, then gently pried the ancient Terran instrument from her hands. </p><p>

“Let me do that.” His long Vulcan fingers deftly wove the string through the hole before beginning the tedious process of turning the antique ivory knob to tighten the string. </p><p>

 

“If you would purchase a digital guitar this changing of strings and tuning would be unnecessary.” </p><p>

 

“And if you purchased a digital harp would not the same be true?” </p><p>

 

“The harp was hand-made in ShiKahr and has been in my family for many generations.” </p><p>

 

“My guitar was hand-made in Nazareth Pennsylvania and has been in my family for many generations as well.” </p><p>

 

“Sometimes, Mairead you are…”</p><p>

 

“Delightful?” </p><p>

 

“Annoying.” </p><p>

 

“Oh, right back at ya, pal,” she responded with a laugh. </p><p>

 

“But at times I do find you….delightful,” he added, and his dark eyes softened as he brushed an errant strand of hair from her cheek. </p><p>

 

“Yeah,” she nodded firmly moving the <i>verdgris</i> hand back to the table. “Once you let sex in the band it goes all Fleetwood Mac.” </p><p>

 

“Fleetwood Mac?” </p><p>

 

“It was something my great-great-great grandmother used to say.  I inherited her sketchbooks and diaries with the guitar.” </p><p>

 

“Ah,” he nodded tightly, “the wisdom of the ages.” </p><p>

 

“So what did the doctor say?” </p><p>

 

“The doctor?” </p><p>

 

“Dr. Hughes-Jones, when she admonished us, what exactly did she say?” </p><p>

 

“Oh yes.  It was most illogical.  I told her we were going to  beam down to Dublin this evening to perform for the  dinner after the conference  and she cautioned us not to ingest too much Guinness. But you have repeatedly stated to me in the past that it was not possible to consume ‘too much’ Guinness.” </p><p>

 

“Fascinating.” </p><p>

 

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++</p><p>

 

The Ferengi bartender studied the odd couple as he set two more pints of Guinness on the polished oak bar.  To say it was uncommon to see a Vulcan in such a place, and with a female no less, was a masterpiece of understatement. </p><p>

 

“Eighty credits,” he said glancing from the tall Vulcan to his female companion. </p><p>

 

“I suppose I am paying for this round as well?” he asked with an amused raise of one elegant eyebrow. </p><p>

 

“I find your supposition highly logical. You were my first love,” she whispered softly. </p><p>

 

His dark eyes softened and there was an almost imperceptible upturn of his lips. </p><p>

 

“Is that you or the Guinness talking?” he asked as he leaned a bit closer to the young woman. </p><p>

 

“It’s me talking to the Guinness.” </p><p>

 

“I see.  Fleetwood Mac.” </p><p>

 

“I love you, just not that way.” </p><p>

 

“I have never understood how a woman could possibly think a male would find that statement to be any sort of comfort.” </p><p>

“You don’t love me that way either.” </p><p>

 

“The comparison is invalid, love is an emotion and Vulcans do not…” his eyes narrowed. “Did you just roll your eyes at me? I am your superior officer.” </p><p>

 

“Do you have the slightest freaking idea how irritating all that ‘Vulcans don’t have emotions’ crap gets, and I think you stopped being my superior officer about four rounds ago.” </p><p>

 

“Indeed.” </p><p>

 

“We both know what the real issue is here?” </p><p>

 

“And that issue would be?” </p><p>

 

Now her eyes narrowed.  “Christine Chapel.  Christine Chapel loves you ‘that way’ and based on the fact that she’s all you seem to talk about lately…”</p><p>

 

“Love is an emotion, Vulcans do not…”</p><p>

 

“Stop! Save that crap for someone who doesn’t’ know better. You know you’re no 'spring chicken’ as my grandmother used to say, and you aren’t getting any younger.” </p><p>

 

“Ah, more wisdom of the ages, and for your information by Vulcan standards I’m not that much older than you.” </p><p>

 

“Really?” she said brushing the weathered Vulcan cheek.  “One would think the lack of emotions would do a better job of preventing wrinkles.” </p><p>

 

Spock sighed.  “What am I going to do with you, Mairead?” </p><p>

 

“Take me back to the ship.  Dr. Hughes-Jones is waiting for this package.” She said nodding toward the small stasis container on the counter.” </p><p>

 

“Medical supplies?” </p><p>

 

“Strawberry Cheesecake ice-cream.” </p><p>

 

 

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++</p><p>

 

 

 

“So I think I’ve made my point,” she smiled at Spock and reached for her guitar case. </p><p>

 

Spock, with his faster Vulcan reflexes, hoisted the antique grey case and the case holding his Vulcan lyrette with one hand offering his free hand to guide the woman down from the transporter platform. </p><p>

 

“Be careful,” he cautioned. </p><p>

 

“I haven’t had too much Guinness,” she responded tartly. </p><p>

 

“I have not put forth that hypothesis, Mairead-- though the shots of Red Breast interspersed between rounds may have been pushing the envelope.” </p><p>

 

They nodded good evening to the transporter tech and moved out to the turbolift. </p><p>

 

“Give me that.” Mairead frowned reaching for the guitar case. </p><p>

 

“I’ll carry it to your quarters,” he responded tightening his grip. </p><p>

 

“No!” she stopped in front of the lift and fixed him with a stern gaze. “You’ve been whining all night about Chris Chapel…and how you’re so in love with her…but you can’t tell her, cause that would be like way to normal for a Vulcan.” </p><p>

 

Spock opened his mouth to protest but Mairead reached out and placed her fingers over his lips. </p><p>

 

“It’s time to step up to the plate.  Go to her now and tell her.” </p><p>

 

“It is the middle of the night?” </p><p>

 

“It’s always night in space, Spock.  Christine should have finished up her lab shift an hour ago.” </p><p>

 

He sighed softly.  Mairead was right of course.  He did love Christine and there was no logic in delaying any longer. He leaned down and planted a light kiss on the Irish woman’s forehead. </p><p>

 

“You are a wise friend.” </p><p>

 

Half an hour later the he found himself standing in front of Christine Chapel’s door pressing the chime. </p><p>

 

“Who is it?” she asked. </p><p>

 

“It is Spock, Christine.  There is something I need to discuss with you.” </p><p>

 

Three decks below Montgomery Scott stared in disbelief as the warp coil indicator showed a massive breech.  There was no time to sound an alarm as the arcing blue energy pulses lit up the engineering deck.  The resulting explosion lit up the skies of terra and was seen throughout the quadrant.</p><p>

 

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++</p><p>

 

The Ferengi bartender studied the odd couple as he set two more pints of Guinness on the polished oak bar.  To say it was uncommon to see a Terran canine in such a place, and with a human female no less, was a masterpiece of understatement. </p><p>

 

“One hundred credits,” he said, and for a moment was overcome with a brief sense of déjà vu. </p><p>

 

Mairead handed him her credit chip. </p><p>

 

“Ensign Sisko needs a bowl,” she said favoring the alien with a sweet smile. </p><p>

 

In the mirrored backbar she watched the ongoing coverage of the catastrophic explosion of the USS Enterprise reflected from the viewscreens. </p><p>

 

“It’s just you and me now.” She told the bright eyed puppy as she poured one of the glasses of dark beer into the bowl.  The dog responded by licking her hand excitedly. “I’m glad I decided to bring you with me for my nightcap boy-o.” </p><p>

 

It was sad to think of the ship gone, the crew now alive only in her memories.  At least they’d been happy she decided.  She’d seen a giggling James Kirk sneaking a pair of female Kardassians into his cabin, and at least Spock and Christine had finally been together at the end.  And of course her last memory of the good Doctor Hughes-Jones enthusiastically licking her Strawberry Cheesecake icecream like it was a Vulcan’s…”</p><p>

 

Her reverie was interrupted as the Ferengi placed a pair of shot glasses filled with Irish whiskey on the bar. </p><p>

 

“I didn’t order two shots.” </p><p>

 

“I just thought… two beers, two shots?” </p><p>

 

“What’s a puppy going to do with a shot?” she said before throwing back the drink. </p><p>

 

“Sorry.” </p><p>

 

He started to remove the second shot, but she batted his hand away.  “That’s alright,” she said and downed the second shot as well. </p><p>

 

Bringing a German shepherd a shot of Irish whiskey-- sometimes she really wondered about the Ferrengi. </p><p>

 

“Bring us two more pints.” </p><p>

“And another shot?”

 

“Yeah, bring me a shot of Red Breast and a shot of schnapps for my furry friend.”</p>
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